


China and Japan Learn to Drive

by 0Rocky41_7



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Humor, Nations being dorks, Old nations trying to work technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0Rocky41_7/pseuds/0Rocky41_7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the advancement of technology and the development of the Ford Model T by America, China and Japan's bosses decide they need to learn how to drive. Together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	China and Japan Learn to Drive

With America’s development of the Model T Ford car, it seemed that cars were inevitably the future of the world. But it still took several years before China and Japan’s bosses decided their countries needed to learn to drive, simply because it was getting wearisome that they didn’t know and had to walk everywhere or get a ride from a government car. Since they seemed to come to the realization at about the same time, they decided to have the two nations learn together. That was their second mistake, the first being to allow either behind the wheel of a car at all.

Bright and early Monday morning, China got out of the car that he’d been driven over in and met Japan outside a small Japanese village where they were to be taught how to drive. Because China was his brother, he could read Japan’s exquisitely subtle hints of irritation and it immediately set off China, who was already displeased about having to learn this with his little brother. However, he forced himself to acknowledge Japan politely.

“Ni hao, Japan,” he said, dipping his head and standing stiffly next to his brother. Japan was silent so long China thought he might not reply at all.

“…konnichiwa, China,” he said at last, giving the smallest incline of his head. A man of average height and average appearance walked over from a small building to stand in front of them.

“I will be your driving instructor,” he said with a bow. His voice was very average. In fact, everything about this man was completely average except for a ridiculously thin and long mustache he bore. As soon as he laid eyes on it, China glanced over at Japan, who, in spite of himself, looked at China from the corners of his eyes, though he immediately snapped them back over to the instructor. “You may call me Mr. Chu.”

“Ni hao.”

“Konnichiwa.”

“You’ll start by learning the basics of the car construction,” Mr. Chu told them, waving for them to follow. He led them over to a simple Model T car, imported from America. Placed next to it was a rolling chalkboard and two rickety looking wooden chairs. Japan and China exchanged another look. _This will certainly be…interesting…_

Actually, the day proved to be anything but. China and Japan both considered themselves to be attentive students when it came to learning, always ready to listen to their instructor, but by the end of six hours, Japan was having to fight to keep his eyes open through Mr. Chu’s droning and he had already elbowed China back awake three times.

Their driving instructor had proved himself capable of prattling on about the most inane, boring, unnecessary details of cars for six hours straight. So far, they hadn’t even gotten a chance to touch the car, let alone drive it. Mr. Chu just went on talking about each and every single part of the car, down to where the bolts on the rims were made and how they were imported to Ford’s factories. The man was so wildly, incredibly platitudinous that even the studious Asian brothers were having a difficult time paying attention at all, when they weren’t focusing on staying awake.

And it didn’t stop there. They were finally released after several hours of that, only to return the next two weeks for the same sort of lesson. China considered himself a fairly patient man, willing to learn something he thought trite because he assumed his instructor had a reason for it, but by the end of the second week, his nerves were so on end he thought he might snap. He had never before experienced something so mind-numbingly, overwhelmingly BORING. He understood the purpose of the basics-learning the rules of the road and the functions of different parts of the car, even if they weren’t particularly interesting to learn about. But why, for the love of Confucius, did they need to know how thick the average Ford Model T car tire was? What, precisely, was the use of knowing why Ford had change from this paint to that paint on their cars? And how did the fact that there had once been a strike in New Jersey, America, at a Model T factory affect them and their driving at all? Pray tell! China thought.

If China was patient, Japan was even more so--or if he wasn’t, he knew well how to hide it. But China sensed even his younger brother was losing patience with their teacher. His first clue had been on the ninth day when Japan took all too much pleasure in poking him in the side with a pencil to wake him up. He had nearly fallen out of his chair and immediately demanded what the devil Japan thought he was doing to which Japan explained he merely wanted to make sure China didn’t miss out on the vitals of how many side mirrors the average Model T factory could produce in an hour.

Mr. Chu had seemed confused by the disturbance and cleared his throat, telling them in his usual dry, papery voice to “sit still now, children, pay attention.” China barely held back from reminding him--in case he might have suddenly become blind--that he and Japan were hardly _children_.

In fact, Mr. Chu became a source of such extraordinary, un-average infuriation to China that he broke his polite, strained silence with Japan, even if it was for the sole purpose of complaining loudly about the man after their lessons. Japan couldn’t disagree with anything China said--it was all true--but he did make an effort to remind China that they had to just make it through, to which China snapped that _of course_ they did, that was rather obvious.

On the third week, China and Japan were allowed to ride in the car while Mr. Chu drove it through the roads of the small village. It was at this point that even Japan had to speak up and mention that he and China had ridden in MANY cars and that perhaps it might be more beneficial for them to try it themselves?

This set Mr. Chu off on a lecture that lasted no less than forty-five minutes about car safety and not being too hasty or acting like an “impulsive young whippersnapper” or something of the kind and was so in depth that Mr. Chu had to park the car to deliver it. China had been ready to strangle Japan for starting off their instructor.

Finally, FINALLY, on the third day of the third week, Mr. Chu announced that they were each going to get a chance to drive the Model T down the road. China immediately volunteered to go first and in his excitement to at last be doing something, promptly crashed into someone’s yard, shattering their fence and breaking both headlights on the Model T.

Another week of safety lessons followed, along with more than one quietly smoldering look thrown his way by Japan.

It seemed like eons before they were given another chance to drive. This time, Mr. Chu decided, they would both be in the car together, that way--here he pushed his glasses further up his nose and directed a look at China--they would have a greater chance of remembering their safety training. China colored, but didn’t say anything.

So he and Japan piled into the car and set off. This time, as if to make up for the previous incident, China drove painfully slowly, braking every several seconds even if there was no reason for it. In this monumentally tedious fashion they drove through the streets until they returned to Mr. Chu and switched places so Japan could drive.

It all went fairly well; they puttered along in silence until suddenly China gave a loud yelp and jumped--or attempted to jump-- to his feet, slamming his head into the top of the car.

“Panda!” he exclaimed, pointing to a large panda walking down the street.

Japan, startled by his brother’s sudden movements, assumed that China had seen something in the street and jerked the wheel to the right before he caught China’s second exclamation. Unfortunately, he was now headed right for the panda. China grabbed the wheel and tried to turn it harder to the right to avoid the panda. Model T cars were not excessively large though, and the weight of both the Asian brothers leaning severely to the right succeeded only in tipping the car over on its side.

The panda approached the wreckage as the two brothers crawled out of the car, groaning and rubbing various sore spots. It then removed its head and revealed itself to be Russia in a panda costume.

“Learning to drive?” he asked brightly. China looked like he might grab one of the Model T wheels with their steel rims that were first polished in Florida before being shipped to the factories in the Northern US and half an inch thick rubber imported from India and bludgeon Russia over the head with it.

“GET OUT!” Something in China’s fuchsia-colored face, balled up fists and screaming tone must have convinced Russia it was a good time to leave. He re-donned the panda head and shuffled off. China turned to survey the damage to the Model T with Japan, who was gazing at the car in dismay.

“What are the chances we don’t get to drive again for another month?” he asked China. China lowered his head before inspiration struck.

“Japan!” he said urgently. “Come on, we can right the car and drive it back to Mr. Chu like nothing happened!”

“But it will be all scratched up on one side,” Japan protested.

“We’ll tell him we scraped a fence or something!” China said. “That’s better than having wrecked the whole thing!” Japan rubbed his lower back, already feeling it ache in anticipation of pushing the car up.

“Alright…” he sighed. They both went around to the other side of the car and grasped the roof, trying to push it back upright. Given the design and their age, however, it proved to be easier said than done. They were about halfway there, with China straining under the weight of it and Japan insisting that they were almost there when Mr. Chu came in search of his two wayward pupils. When he saw them, he gave a cry and began to hurry towards them. Startled for the second time that day, Japan’s grip on the car went slack and it collapsed back toward the ground, only now it had China between it and the ground. China hit the ground hard on his back, wheezing as he tried to keep the weight of it off his chest while Japan frantically tried to push the Model T off his brother.

Eventually, he and Mr. Chu managed to free China, though it took a good bit longer to right the Model T. They got a lecture that lasted the rest of the training day and the silence between the two on the way back to their pick up spot was tense.

“Aiyah! This is all your fault, aru,” China grumbled at last, rubbing his shoulder. “If you hadn’t tried to run over the panda-!”

“My fault? You startled me!” Japan accused. “I was doing fine until you started jumping around and yelling like an insane man.”

“An insane man? There was a panda!” China said, as if it was the most obvious reason in the world to have that reaction. “And you didn’t have to try to run it over!”

“It was not even a panda,” Japan said. “It was Russia. And I did not try to run it over…besides; you are the one who capsized the Model T.”

“You did too! I could not have capsized it alone, aru!”

“One would think you would be able to tell the difference between a real panda and Russia in a panda costume after all these years…” Fortunately things were stopped there by the arrival of Japan’s car ride home. Much as Japan had predicted, two weeks of more chalkboard lessons followed the capsizing incident before the two men were allowed a chance to drive the Model T again. Perhaps against his better judgment, Mr. Chu allowed the brothers to drive together again. They made one round each through the village with no noticeable screw-ups, but on China’s second round, Japan made the mistake of suggesting China might drive a little faster, or it was going to take them another hour to get back to Mr. Chu. Somehow the entire conversation spiraled into China trying to defend his driving against Japan pointing out all the faults in it until they both fell into a sulky silence.

When they did get back to Mr. Chu and switched places again, China waited about two minutes before he declared that Japan was driving much too slow.

“Drive faster, aru! If you think I drive too slow!”

“I will not. This is a perfectly acceptable pace at which to drive,” Japan responded.

“It’s too slow!” China argued. “My grandma could walk faster than this, aru!”

“You could not drive faster than this.” Japan was unable to bite back the retort, though it was spoken in his usual flat tone.

“Give me that! You do not know how to drive!” China reached over Japan and grabbed the wheel, trying to take it away.

“If I do not, then you do not either!” Japan said, trying to fight China off. It turned into a full-out battle for the wheel and all Mr. Chu could see was the Model T swerving wildly back and forth as it trundled down the dusty road at about five miles an hour.

Eventually they suffered a slow speed crash into a trash bin and Mr. Chu came over to once more revoke their driving privileges. There was no arguing on the way back to the pick-up spot that night, but China could sense Japan wanted to kill him. It seemed like they were never going to pass this course at all! In fact, their government officials had begun to wonder what exactly was going on all this time.

The next day they arrived only to be informed by a younger man that Mr. Chu had been detained for a speeding ticket. It was at that moment that both brothers decided that that was absolutely enough of this circus. They waited for Mr. Chu to arrive and then China spoke.

“You have been teaching us a whole lot of worthless things, aru,” he said. “Why do you waste so much time talking about pointless things and safety and then go off and break your own rules?”

“It seems hypocritical to say the least,” Japan put in.

“You have been wasting our time,” China added. “I think you are no better at driving than we are.”

“We have nothing more to gain from your exceedingly dull lessons,” Japan concluded.

“So sayonara to you and your stupid-looking mustache,” China finished as they walked by, one passing by on either side of Mr. Chu. As they walked off to go find a phone and give their respective governments a call, they exchanged a look a little smirk rested on each of their lips. Driving lessons, fah! They were old enough to drive on their own. However, their officials never really trusted them enough to allow either of the nation-tans to give them a ride, given their botched training.


End file.
